And you let her go
by ShortofWords
Summary: Days before Christmas, DS James Hathaway meets an old friend but she doesn't seem to recognize him anymore. Being a detective, he needs to know. Not being able to remember, she needs to know. And who is Aaron Norton exactly?
1. Thinking

_A/N:_ This story was inspired by a song (Passenger - _Let her go_) heard on a Wednesday morning in my tiny office at work. As some kind of tribute and because it fits, I put some of it in this first chapter.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my thoughts, these are they.

* * *

Thinking

Detective Sergeant James Hathaway was on his way to the shopping centre on Queen Street. It was a Saturday, so no time for murder. Actually, there hadn't been a proper murder case in over a week. Lewis and he had been stuck at their desks for most of the time and it weighed on the both of them, even more so because they were mid-December with Christmas coming soon. Lewis had the extra burden of Val's death on the 19th, which was... today. This sudden awareness made Hathaway stop in his tracks. How could he forget that? Someone bumped into him and forced him back to reality.

"Sorry."

The other guy just mumbled "idiot" and walked on. Hathaway gave a little sarcastic smile and started walking again, mentally noting that the guy had said what he himself thought. He wasn't one to forget these things but with work being slow, Lewis being grumpy and Christmas up ahead, it felt like there was a big grey cloud hanging over his head. And he had to be amiable at Christmas, being invited by a college friend and his wife who knew he'd otherwise be alone. He liked the pair of them and their kids but he valued his time alone, especially at Christmas. Their kids were the reason he was out now, trying to find them some gifts. He hated shopping but it had to be done. Best get it over with, he thought.

He looked to his left. This shop seemed suitable. He sighed before grabbing the door handle. Seeing a woman coming towards the door, her head turned to the man behind her, he held it open. She turned her head back and passed through the door.

"Thank you."

Hathaway was astonished and incapable of speaking. He stared, his mouth almost falling open. He just stood there, gaping at her with the door handle still in his left hand.

"Thanks, pal."

The man she'd been talking to in the shop now joined her on the pavement and took her hand. With that, she realized she too was staring and turned her head. The man started crossing the road, not wanting to spend more time on Hathaway's staring gaze. He knew he had a beautiful wife but this guy must be king of exaggeration, staring at her like that. The funny thing was he felt there was more to it. So he crossed the road, not looking back. His wife on the other hand, did look back, mid-road. Hathaway had followed her with his gaze and met her eyes for the second time now.

"Have you suddenly lost interest in me?"

He woke her up out of the cloud that covered the chaos in her head. She disconnected her eyes from Hathaway's and put them on the man next to her, holding her hand.

"What? No, of course not, Aaron."

She looked down, having reached the other side of the road. They turned right, which left her in Hathaway's sight. She could still see him out of the corner of her eye but didn't dare to turn her head again. Aaron felt the tension his wife was trying to hide and figured a question was reasonable.

"Do you recognize him?"

She sighed. Fair question but not a really sympathetic one.

"Not likely" she answered, turning her head towards him. "I just got the feeling I've seen him before."

Aaron looked at his wife with this caring look of his and smiled.

"Maybe from the party at your parents' house, last week? Lots of guys like him walking around there" he offered.

She smiled back at him.

"You're probably right, as usual."

No, he was not right. She might not remember but she felt there was more to it. She'd known this man, she was sure of it.

Hathaway followed her with his gaze until she rounded the corner that put her out of his sight. All this time, which felt like ages but in fact was no more than a minute, he stood there, holding the door open for whoever was passing through it. He got more "thank you"'s in that minute than he'd had all week. But he didn't hear any of it. And now she was gone. He blinked, swallowed and let his bated breath escape before he turned his head towards the shop, the place she had come from. There was no sign of her having been there. Of course not, that guy earlier was right, he was an idiot. Finally he walked in.

* * *

A couple of hours later Hathaway entered his flat carrying two large gifts for the kids and a smaller one for the parents. It seemed it had taken him forever to find appropriate gifts and he still wasn't sure that they would be. The cloud hanging over his head had dissolved but was replaced by thick fog, caused by the mystery of Elenora Hartly. He kept trying to figure out why she hadn't recognized him. He hadn't changed that much since university. She'd only gotten more beautiful. They had been friends, good friends. Never more than that but that couldn't be the reason she pretended not to recognize him. Actually, she hadn't pretended. He hadn't seen any trace of recognition on her face. Maybe she'd blocked out the memory on behalf of the man she was with. Because she was clearly with him, married maybe. This was turning into a really bad day.

Hathaway shook his head as to shake off the thought of her. His stomach made a noise; he should make himself dinner. For a while this took priority over thinking of her. But she kept popping back up: when he stirred his soup, when he poured it into a bowl, when he sat at the table to eat it, when he brought a piece of bread to his mouth. Her chestnut hair, her calm but melodious voice, her startling brown eyes, her soft smile, which he hadn't seen today but had seen so many times before. Maybe he was idealizing her from that image and she had looked very different this afternoon. No, that couldn't be. One of his skills as a police officer was observation; he'd never get that wrong.

While doing the dishes, he realized he could check that. There was a photograph of the two of them in one of his kitchen drawers. He hadn't thought of it for ages but the minute he saw the envelope with his name on it, he knew what was inside. He poured himself a glass of Scotch and sat down on the sofa, taking the envelope with him. He turned it over, sighed and took a large drink before pulling the photo out.

It showed two people, a man and a woman, freshly graduated for they still had their cap and gown on. They grinned broadly; his arm lay comfortably around her shoulders, holding her close.

He took another large drink, emptying the glass.

That had been the last day he'd seen her. He had let her go.

_Staring at the bottom of your glass_

_Hoping one day you'll make a dream last_

_But dreams come slow and they go so fast_

_You see her when you close your eyes_

_Maybe one day you'll understand why_

_Everything you touch surely dies_

_Staring at the ceiling in the dark_

_Same old empty feeling in your heart_

_'Cause love comes slow and it goes so fast_

_Well you see her when you fall asleep_

_But never to touch and never to keep_

Hathaway eventually fell asleep, a less than fruitful sleep.

* * *

Elenora Norton was lying in her bed, staring at the so familiar ceiling. Her husband, Aaron Norton, turned the lights off and snuggled up to her. He caressed her bare shoulder with his fingers, moving them to her collar bone and down from there. His lips followed the path taken by his fingers.

"Aaron."

He stopped to look at her. It didn't sound inviting and the glare she shot him wasn't either. Despite that, he tried again, caressing the part of her chest her top left uncovered. But he got no other reaction than the same deadly glare. He abruptly turned away from her and put his back towards her. He always got what he wanted.

She knew he was pissed off, even without looking at his back. Not meeting his intentions was a serious offense as far as Aaron Norton was concerned. Normally, she would have turned towards him after a while and let him get his way, because she'd feel guilty for refusing her husband and felt like she owed it to him. But tonight was different, tonight she wouldn't give him what he wanted. She needed time to think. And while he dozed off, still a little angry, she just lay there, thinking, trying to put back together the pieces of a puzzle she knew she could no longer solve. It was gone, all of it. Or not?


	2. Searching

Searching

A kiss. A hand on his heart.

"Bye now. Have a nice day."

Elenora waved at her husband's leaving car from the doorway. It was Monday morning and he was off to work. Good, she needed the time alone.

"Still waving him off, are you?"

"Hi, Donna. Yes, I am." She turned towards her neighbour who was also about to leave for work.

"You're too good for him, you know that?" Donna said, only half joking.

Elenora smiled. She knew her neighbour didn't always get along with Aaron. She was somewhat reserved when he was around but she was never obvious about it. Elenora took it for some kind of over protectiveness and didn't take the remark too serious.

"I know you think that but me being too good for him doesn't make him bad." She smiled.

Donna snorted. "True. Very well spoken."

"Shall I wave you off too, then?" Elenora smirked.

"You do that" Donna responded before getting in her car and driving off. She met Elenora's waving hand with a honk.

Elenora turned and walked back into the house, closing the door behind her. Finally she was alone.

* * *

She sat at the kitchen table for a while, contemplating if she really should go through with it. For some reason she knew she had to, no matter how many thoughts she would put into it. The man she'd seen outside the shop on Saturday clung to her too much. Too much to be just a passer-by, too much to be just a guy she had noticed at a party, too much to be someone she'd never felt for. Whoever he was, there had been a connection between the two of them and she was going to find it. It was time to go up to the attic.

The attic of the Norton house was low, dusty and only accessible by ladder. Elenora climbed it carefully; her balance wasn't as good as it once had been due to the accident. She hadn't gotten up to the attic since and she felt excited now that she was.

Seeing the excess of labelled boxes when she reached the top of the ladder tempered her excitement a little. How on earth was she going to find what she was looking for? And what was she looking for exactly? She sat herself down on the dusty floor and let her legs dangle out of the hatch. She sighed and closed her eyes. There he was: tall, blond, well dressed, good-looking. But that wasn't what haunted her. His eyes did that, big in amazement, soft in ... recognition was it? They made her feel terrible as well as special. The origin of the first she knew. She now needed to find the origin of the second. She knew she couldn't possibly remember without something solid to prove it and even then there was no guarantee that she would.

She opened her eyes and stared at the boxes all over the attic. She recognized the handwriting on their labels as her own.

"Go figure, Mrs. Tidy" she said to herself. Aaron always said she'd been good at these things. She could only hope it would help her now.

* * *

"Good morning, sir."

"Good morning, sergeant."

Hathaway sat down in front of his computer without paying attention to Lewis' inquiring gaze. He knew he looked like he hadn't seen a bed in two days, which was only half true. But it certainly didn't require an inquiry.

"Have you slept at all this weekend? Or were you too busy doing other things?"

It was a harsh question even for Lewis in a grumpy mood. His tone of voice told Hathaway all he needed to know. Lewis was irritated and only a fool couldn't guess what that was about.

"Still no murder around then?" Hathaway asked turning his chair to face Lewis.

"You think I'd be sitting here watching my sleep deprived sergeant walk in when there was?" Lewis snapped.

Hathaway snorted and showed a little smile. Back to his desk it was.

He picked up one of the files he'd been working on last week. Not really interesting but he had to do something. Maybe it would distract him long enough to stop thinking about Elenora. She hadn't left his thoughts since he'd seen her. She was the reason he hadn't slept, or at least very little. He opened the file and started reading.

* * *

Elenora had seen nearly every box there was in the attic. Just a few were still untouched, pushed all the way back. She hadn't found anything relating to him yet but she wasn't going to give up. As time had passed she'd grown more convinced there was something to be found. The first hour had been a disaster: with every box she'd opened she had reminded herself of the fact that she no longer had the memories attached to them. It had been extremely difficult; she'd started crying multiple times. She'd always listened to Aaron telling her that what was lost was in the past anyway and that she'd better make new memories than try to retrieve those that were lost. After a while, she'd accepted his advice and moved on. But what he said wasn't entirely true; she really needed to find this one.

After that first hour, she'd set herself down to think. Her strategy was wrong. She shouldn't consider the boxes as her memories but as pieces of information. By using her common sense and reasoning skills she could determine if a box was worth checking. The process of elimination had let her to leave boxes labelled _Christmas_ and _Home_ unopened. It seemed to work: she felt less emotional and more in control. But the biggest profit was that she was sure she'd find whatever she was looking for.

She needed to stretch herself to reach the last couple of boxes, pushed all the way back. The attic was too low for her to stand so she lay sprawled on the floor, boxes everywhere around her, to reach one of them of which she could not read the label, light failing to reach it either. When she pulled it closer a strange tension seized her. The label read _Cambridge_.

For a moment she could not breathe. Her breath was stuck in her throat; she had to swallow to clear it. She sighed lightly, this was it.

Elenora carefully came down the ladder, the box clutched between her arm and her body. She left all the other boxes as they were and closed the hatch on them. This was the one she needed, she could feel it. Sitting down on the matrimonial bed, she opened the box. There were plenty of papers in it and she recognized some of them as actual 'papers', not that she knew what was in them or what they were about. Her name and supposed student number gave it away, mostly. She smiled. Maybe she should read them, she might learn something. Why not? She looked at the clock, tea time. She went downstairs and made herself a cup to take up to the bedroom where she'd left the box.

She took small sips sorting through the items in the box. She fished out an envelope with her name on it. The moment she saw it, she shivered. Or was that because of the wind coming through the open window? She looked at the envelope and put her cup down. Her name was written on it in masculine, big letters. There was no clue as to who'd written it: no name, no postmark and no address. She took a deep breath before pulling whatever was in it out of the envelope.

It was a photo showing a man and a woman, freshly graduated for they still had their cap and gown on. They grinned broadly; his arm lay comfortably around her shoulders, holding her close.

Elenora recognized the woman as herself and the man as the one she'd seen on Saturday. No name though. She turned the photo over.

_Such a waste you never got together. As a couple! Tom_

* * *

Hathaway had stumbled across an anomaly in the file he was reading. He turned to his computer to run a name when Lewis said:

"Let's call it a day, hea."

"Just..." Hathaway started but was interrupted by Lewis.

"Hathaway, there's always going to be a "just". Leave it. You need to sleep."

"But, sir..." Hathaway muttered, looking at Lewis who was standing in the doorway now.

"Suit yourself then, sergeant."

Lewis walked out and Hathaway turned back to his computer, entering the name into the database. When the results showed up on his screen, he realized he'd been an idiot, again. It would be really easy to find her if he wanted to; he just had to enter her name into the system. Address, phone number, everything was within reach. Even if she was married, she'd be found under her maiden name, Hartly.

The only question was, did he want to find her? Or should he let it go? He rested his fingers on the keys without actually typing something and reflected on this. It would be easy but then what? Stop by? And what if she was married? Would he still be able to let go if he knew where she lived but also that she was married? No, she'd left an impression. On his heart.

Slowly he entered her name but he never pressed Enter.

* * *

Elenora was making dinner when Aaron walked in.

"Something smells good" he greeted his wife.

She smiled and let him kiss her on the cheek.

"How long until it's ready?" Aaron asked, walking towards the dinner table. Beside the dinner utensils there was an envelope on the table with on top of that a photo. Aaron took a peek and scowled.

"Two seconds" Elenora replied, walking into the room holding a pan. Aaron quickly turned, feeling caught. She smiled at him and he smiled back but it wasn't a genuine smile.

They ate quietly, every now and then exchanging a word or two about the day. Elenora noticed that the scowl on her husband's forehead got more obvious over dinner. She hadn't told him anything about her day yet but she was sure he'd seen the photo. Why didn't he just ask about it? She knew she should tell him but for some reason she felt anxious to do so.

"I went up to the attic today."

"You felt the need to, I suppose."

Aaron held a straight face. His tone of voice frightened her a little; it was cold, distant, a bit angry even.

"I wanted to know for sure I didn't know him."

"He looked so familiar" she added softly.

"Apparently he is!" Aaron burst out.

He pulled the photo towards him and picked it up only to throw it back on the table seconds later.

Elenora walked over to her husband who'd left the table in his anger. She realized she'd made a mistake.

"He was" she said. "Past tense."

Aaron narrowed his eyes at her to see if she meant it. She did, he could tell. She also felt guilty and that secretly pleased him.

"You know where I stand on past things, right?"

She knew. Very well. And although his voice had softened and he didn't seem to be angry anymore, Elenora didn't feel reassured. In fact, she realized he was patronizing her, talking to her like she was a child that needed to be reprimanded. It shocked her.

"I do and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... It was difficult, you were right."

The apology was a lie but she needed to offer it to him. There was no other way.

"Who is he, anyway? An old boyfriend?"

His sudden interest annoyed and confused her. First he gets angry, then he's interested? What was he playing at? For the first time, Elenora doubted her husband's intentions. But more than that, she questioned her own compliance to him. Had she always been this way? Her common sense told her "no" and it scared her.

"I don't know, there's no name. I think he was just a friend, otherwise it would be a different picture."

Aaron seemed to settle for that answer. Good, she was too confused to worry about his state of mind any longer. One thing was for sure, she wasn't going to let the photo be the end of it. She definitely needed to find him.


	3. Talking

Talking

December 24th , 3 p.m. There were police and other related cars queued up in one of Oxford's residential streets. Aaron Norton looked out the window from behind the curtain: there seemed to be some interest in his neighbour, Donna Smith. Men and the occasional woman walked in and out of her house, some wearing a police uniform, some wearing a white protective suit. Aaron watched the scene intentionally, captivated. He was working at home today but didn't actually get much work done: too many interruptions. Elenora kept asking him to taste the food she was preparing for Christmas dinner at her parents'. She was a good cook. Aaron heard her humming a Christmas song and smiled. She was totally unaware of the fuss going on next door to which he now returned his attention. Two men wearing regular suits, like the ones he wore to work, just walked out of the house followed by a woman in a white one. They talked. With their backs turned towards him he couldn't discern what they were talking about but he did recognize one of the men. Suddenly this man turned his head towards him. Aaron quickly hid behind the curtain but knew he had been spotted.

"Shit, he's a cop" he muttered under his breath before returning to his work.

* * *

Lewis and Hathaway walked out of Donna Smith's house. There was nothing more they could do or see inside. Dr. Hobson followed them out.

"What else can you tell me, Doctor?" Lewis asked.

"You mean besides time and cause of death?"

Lewis nodded. Hathaway looked down the hall they'd just left and caught a glimpse of someone watching them from next door. But before he could check who the observer was, the doctor spoke.

"I think you're looking for a very strong man. It takes a lot of force to strangle someone with one hand while the other is used to suffocate that same person. Her assailant was probably taller."

"Strong, or angry?" Lewis asked rubbing his forehead.

"Very angry" she said, stressing the first word. "I'll know more after the post mortem."

She looked at Lewis' tired face and softly touched his arm before she left the scene. He followed her with his gaze while Hathaway turned his head towards the neighbour's house and caught a glimpse of the man watching them.

"Someone's very interested" he said moving his head towards the window.

Lewis followed his motion but saw nothing.

"You follow up on the neighbourhood canvass, then. I'll talk to the friend who reported her missing. See you back at the station."

* * *

"I'll get it!" Elenora yelled from the kitchen. She was closer to the front door and this way Aaron didn't have to get up from his work; she'd interrupted him too often already. She wiped her hands on her apron and went to the door. She heard Aaron say something about not opening it but it was too late for that.

"Hi, I'm..." Hathaway started, turning towards the now opened door.

Seeing her, he was completely lost for words.

Elenora was lost for words too. Standing in front of her was the man she'd seen on Saturday and that was in the photograph still lying on her dinner table. And he was going to introduce himself.

"What's going on?"

Aaron interrupted the bewildered silence. Hathaway was first to recover.

"I'm Detective Sergeant James Hathaway." He showed them his badge. "I'd like to talk to you about your neighbour, Donna Smith."

At precisely that moment Donna's body was carried out of the house. Hathaway noticed it from the corner of his eye and had to tear himself away from Elenora's staring gaze to see it properly. She followed his gaze, as did Aaron who'd taken place behind his wife holding her by the waist. The three of them watched the body bag being walked down the driveway, all with mixed feelings.

"Is she..." Elenora stammered.

Hathaway met her eyes again. "Yeah. I'm sorry."

Elenora's face turned pale. Her surprise and hidden happiness to find this man on her doorstep was instantly replaced by sadness. Tears welled up in her eyes but she tried to fight them. Hathaway witnessed the change and wanted to pull her close to comfort her through her obvious pain. But it was her husband that did that.

"I don't think this is the best of times to ask questions, sergeant...?" Aaron said, only pretending to have forgotten his name.

"Hathaway, sir." He took a breath hoping to clear his head. "I understand but if you could just tell me when you saw Ms. Smith last. That would be of great help."

Aaron glared at Hathaway who was still looking at Elenora. He tried to turn her into his arms so she'd get out of his sight. She let him.

"She probably doesn't remember, sergeant. My wife has amnesia, you see. I for one haven't seen Donna in over a week."

"Ella?"

Hathaway said it without thinking. And although Elenora was barely listening, she picked up on both her husband's patronizing tone and Hathaway's contraction of her name. No one ever used this one; people called her Elle or Nora but never Ella. It didn't sound unfamiliar, though. He'd sent shivers down her spine just by saying that. She turned back around.

"I do remember" Elenora said with a broken voice. "Monday morning, eight thirty. She was leaving for work. I talked to her."

"Did anything seem to bother her?"

"No, not that I know of. She didn't mention anything."

"And after that?"

"I noticed her car in the driveway the next morning so she must have gotten home." Elenora looked at her neighbour's house and the tears welled back up.

"I think that's enough, sergeant" Aaron said with a stern voice. He was getting annoyed by the fact that they seemed to forget he was standing right there, a witness to their conversation that he felt could have continued forever.

Thinking as a police officer, Hathaway didn't agree. But seeing Elenora's tear-stained face overruled his common and professional sense. He couldn't torture her any longer.

"For the moment, yes. If I can get your contact information in case I've got more questions?"

Aaron reluctantly told him what he needed to know and Hathaway left looking back one last time, only to see Aaron slightly urge his wife to go inside. She too looked back one last time catching a last glimpse of Hathaway before Aaron decisively closed the door on them.

* * *

When Hathaway returned to the station Lewis was already talking to Chief Superintendent Innocent in their office.

"Glad you could join us, sergeant" she said when he walked in.

"Ma'am" he nodded before setting himself down in his chair.

"Did the neighbourhood canvass yield anything?" Lewis asked.

"Not really. I spent my time talking to Mr. and Mrs. Norton, the neighbours. She said she saw the victim Monday morning, nothing out of the ordinary. She left by car and the next morning Mrs. Norton noticed it in the driveway so she must have come home with it. After that, nothing."

"And he?" Innocent asked. "Lewis told me you saw him watching you."

"Hadn't seen her in over a week. He's the nosey type, I think. And he's very protective of his wife" he added softly.

"Why is that important?" Innocent gave him a quizzical look.

"It's not" Hathaway responded thoughtfully, only then realizing he'd said it out loud. Innocent and Lewis shared a look.

"Just an observation" Lewis said in defence of his sergeant.

"Right." Innocent shrugged. "So we have a murder on the day before Christmas. You guys had plans?"

Both men nodded.

"Me too. And doctor Hobson just informed me she won't be doing the post mortem until after Christmas. So I suggest we leave this for a later day. Happy Christmas."

Innocent walked out of the office, leaving Lewis stunned and Hathaway who was absent-minded anyway, confused.

* * *

_A/N: _The next chapter will be published in about two weeks because I leave for a week's holiday in Prague tomorrow. Sorry! I hope the city will be of good influence.

Gros Bisous, Suzanne


	4. Arranging

_A/N:_ I'm very sorry it took me so long to continue this story. I can only hope you'll stick with me. One thing's for sure: the next chapter will be uploaded much sooner.

Disclaimer: The lyrics in this chapter are from Adèle's _Someone like you_ with some adaptations, because in this case it's a man thinking about a woman, not the other way around.

* * *

Arranging

Hathaway seated himself in one of the comfortable chairs in the living room. He'd just enjoyed the delicious Christmas dinner Nadia had made for him and her family. She was now putting the kids to bed so he and Tom had some time alone. They'd met at university and had been friends ever since. Hathaway was very grateful Tom had invited him over this Christmas. Otherwise he would really have been miserable.

"There you go" Tom said, putting Hathaway's drink in front of him.

Hathaway silently nodded and smiled. Tom sat down on the couch, his own drink in hand, and glanced at his friend. Hathaway's thoughtful face worried him: he seemed to be miles away. Knowing Hathaway wouldn't give up the information spontaneously, Tom asked the obvious question:

"What's on your mind?"

Hathaway blinked and turned towards Tom. He was genuinely interested, Hathaway knew that. So he reached for his inside pocket and handed Tom the photo.

"Do you remember her?"

Tom took the photo from his friend and looked at it. He smiled.

"Elenora, right?" He glanced at Hathaway for confirmation. Even without him answering, he knew he'd guessed right as Hathaway's face lit up just by hearing her name. "I do remember" he said suggestively.

Hathaway's face clouded again. The suggestion made him feel uncomfortable; he'd never had _that_ kind of relationship with Elenora.

Tom looked at him properly and burst out in laughter. "Look at your face! Like I just accused you of a heinous crime! As far as I know, she wasn't with anyone back then. So if you..."

"I didn't, we weren't..." Hathaway interrupted.

Looking at his friend's face, he snorted and smiled. Tom was just messing with his head; he knew they hadn't been a couple, despite his efforts. Hathaway leaned forward and grabbed his drink.

"I met her the other day. She didn't recognize me" he said as he sat back and took a drink.

Tom's joyous facial expression turned to surprise. "That's very unlike her. She used to remember everything, every word, every move. She was able to reproduce an entire lecture!"

"I know" Hathaway responded. "But it turns out she has amnesia. Or so I'm told."

"By who?"

"Her husband." Hathaway witnessed the change in Tom's expression yet again and knew right then and there it had been a mistake to tell him. "I spoke to him relating a case" he tried, hoping it would create a way out of what he knew was coming.

It didn't.

"James, do you still like her?" Tom asked, sounding worried. His friend didn't have the best track record concerning women but a married one, well that was bad. Really bad.

"I never..." Hathaway protested. It was pointless.

"No?" Tom flashed him the photo. "Look at this! I even wrote it on the back."

Hathaway shot his friend a glare.

"Why else would you be walking around with this picture in your pocket?" Tom continued, alarmed by Hathaway's stubborn denial. "What is going on with you? First, you fall in love with a woman who turns out to be a man and who tries to kill you, then you return to an old girlfriend who is about to get married and also covered up a murder and now this? Do you see the pattern here?"

Hathaway muttered something unintelligible. He could do without those memories.

Tom looked at him and felt sorry for saying that. But he was trying to save his friend from making a grievous mistake.

"Don't get involved, James. Stay away, for your own good." He waited for Hathaway to meet his eyes. "I mean it. She's married, leave it."

Hathaway nodded slowly. He knew Tom was right: Elenora was married, didn't remember him and was probably happy. He should leave it. But why couldn't he?

* * *

Nadia walked in with a broad grin on her face. "The kids are really happy with their presents, James. They almost didn't want to go to sleep without them. But I conned them into letting go."

Hathaway knew the feeling.

"What's this?" Nadia said, pointing to the photo that was now on the table.

Before Tom could even open his mouth, the question was answered:

"It's a memory. One I need to let go, like she did" Hathaway said, pocketing the photo.

He pretended to be okay with it as he met Nadia's questioning eyes with a smile. She accepted.

Later that night, when not only the kids but also the adults were supposed to be sleeping, Hathaway was still thinking about Elenora.

_I heard that you're settled down_

_That you found a man_

_And you're married now_

_I heard that you're dreams came true_

_Guess he gave you things_

_I couldn't give to you_

_I hoped you'd seen my face_

_And that you'd be reminded_

_That for me, it isn't over_

* * *

"I'm going for a walk, anybody wants to join me?"

"Oh, Edward, isn't it much too cold to go outside for a walk?" Sophia Hartly said to her husband. Her tone of voice expressed both her deep love for him and her unfulfilled desire to cure him of his quirks, like this one. But she knew there was no stopping it, certainly not when his daughter encouraged him.

"I'll join you, dad."

She got up from her seat and walked over to her father. He offered her his arm and together they walked out. Aaron was left alone with his mother-in-law.

The clicking of the door was followed by just a few seconds of complete silence, in which Aaron and Sophia contemplated their thoughts. Sophia spoke first.

"Aaron, what's on her mind? She seems distracted."

When Aaron didn't answer her question right away, she continued:

"I tried to talk to her more than once these past few days, but she's holding something back. I can see she's got you worried too."

Aaron intently waited for her to express their shared concern. He needed it to put his plan into work.

"Yes, it is" he answered, turning his chair so he could face Sophia. But he didn't look her in the eye just yet.

"She met an old friend from university the other day..." he lifted his eyes up to her level "... and she's trying to remember him, things about him, against my advice."

"Why?"

"She said she _needed to know_ but I'm a little bit worried that this might trigger other inquiries into her past" Aaron replied. He and his mother-in-law where on the same page concerning Elenora's amnesia: what's in the past should stay in the past. So he knew she would find this as worrying as he did but for a different reason. He could use that.

"She found an old picture of the two of them after we saw him on Saturday and then he stopped by last week to ask us if we had seen anything concerning Donna's murder."

"Your neighbour?"

"Yeah."

"But you think this is not the end of it? That she will continue digging into the past and that he'll enable her if he gets the chance? Like he's her way in?" Sophia thought aloud.

Aaron nodded. His mother-in-law paved the way for his plan and she didn't even know it.

"I think so, yes. But I'm not sure she's ready for all of that. She doesn't remember anything specific about him to begin with and I don't know if he's a reliable witness to that part of her life. What if..."

Aaron purposefully left the sentence unfinished. Sophia finished it in her head and thus reached the conclusion that this man could be a threat to her daughter's happiness. She wouldn't allow that. Thoughtfully she said:

"She said she _needed to know_, yes? What if we, or rather I, explain the situation to him and express my concerns for her well-being if he tells her _all_ he knows?"

"Would you do that? I mean, I could try myself but I don't think he'll accept it from me."

"I can be pretty convincing if I want to, Aaron" Sophia smiled.

Aaron mischievously smiled back at her, knowing she'd miss out on his sentiment. If only she knew...

"Have Elenora set up a dinner date with him. You'll be there, of course, to support her. Leave the rest to me."

Aaron took Sophia's hands in his and delicately kissed them. "Thank you."

"Let's hope this makes her drop her inquiries for a while" Sophia said, blushing. She pulled her hands back and stood up. Father and daughter were back.

* * *

It had been four days since he'd last seen her and through his conversations with Tom and Nadia he'd realized that it might as well have been the last time he'd seen her. Because of that, her invite for dinner had taken him by surprise but he'd accepted without hesitation. Besides, her husband was also going to be there, so it was nothing more than dinner with an old friend to catch up. He almost convinced himself he wouldn't want it any other way.

Lewis had just left their office to get some more coffee while Hathaway was reading the toxicology report they'd gotten from doctor Hobson. It contained nothing new but with no other leads to pursue it was all they had.

Someone knocked on the open door and walked in.

"I'm looking for Detective Sergeant James Hathaway" she said.

Hathaway looked up and saw an older woman standing in the doorway. She didn't seem nervous or unsure if she was in the right place. Her features reminded him of someone. She fixed her gaze on him.

"I am Detective Sergeant Hathaway." He rose to his feet. "What can I do for you, Mrs.?"

He knew before she answered.

"Sophia Hartly." She waited to see his reaction but there was none. So she continued.

"I understand you have a dinner date with my daughter and her husband tonight and..."

Hathaway wasn't listening. After she'd stated her name, his mind went completely blank. Slowly he put out his hand and she shook it firmly, holding on to it just a bit too long. He wasn't paying attention. She tilted her head to the right to get it back. Only one question was ringing in his head:

Why?

"I understand you are meeting my daughter and her husband for dinner tonight" she started again.

Hathaway nodded.

"There are some things you need to know beforehand, that's why I'm here."

Again Hathaway nodded, unable to completely overcome his astonishment.

"As you already know, my daughter has amnesia. It has taken her a long time to accept that and get on with her life. We encouraged her to leave the past in the past, because we had no guarantee that she'd get all of her memories back. She hasn't up till now. I understand you belonged to the part of her life she has lost and that's why I'm here asking you to be careful of what you tell her and how you tell her. For her sake."

What was this? A warning to stay away? Another friendly advice? It sounded more like the first than the latter to Hathaway. Dazed, he asked:

"What should I tell her then?"

"What she _needs_ to know" Sophia said, emphasizing the middle word. She looked Hathaway straight in the eye, without it being threatening.

"It's in my daughter's best interest" she added.

Hathaway looked at her in blank amazement while she spoke but his gaze softened now that he noticed Sophia meant what she said. She really was convinced her daughter wouldn't handle hearing about her past very well. Especially, the past she'd forgotten.

"I'll try not to hurt her, ma'am" he said. I never would, he added mentally.

She smiled, glad he seemed to understand. "Thank you."

Without saying another word, Sophia left. Hathaway followed her with his gaze until she was out of his sight. Being alone again in his own office, he was more confused than he'd ever been.

* * *

"Who was that?"

Lewis had been watching the scene unfold from the hallway. As he'd gotten back from his coffee run, he'd seen Hathaway talking to this older woman, his face expressing nothing but surprise. He'd decided not to interrupt them: if anything should happen he was close enough. Her departure was his cue to walk back in. He found Hathaway looking more confused than surprised.

"A worried mother, apparently" Hathaway answered hesitantly.

"Child missing?"

"No, amnesia."

"What? Is this some kind of riddle, Hathaway? Normal English would be nice."

"I haven't got a clue, sir" Hathaway said as she sat back down. He definitely needed to get back to work.


	5. Meeting

_A/N_: I tried to capture the awkwardness of the situation in my writing. Please let me know if you think I did.

* * *

Meeting

At eight o'clock sharp that evening Hathaway arrived at the fancy looking restaurant where he'd meet the Norton's for dinner. It wasn't the kind of restaurant Hathaway would normally go to: too fancy and too expensive. Elenora would also not have chosen this one, at least not when he knew her. Sure, she could afford it but she had never felt the need to show it. Maybe she had changed. His sudden awareness of this very real possibility made him shake his head. After he'd seen her, he was just stuck in the past, without even considering that she could have changed during the decade they'd been apart. He was being an idiot again. Of course she would have changed, whether or not because of the amnesia. It was the extent of change he didn't know about.

For some reason though, he was convinced her husband Aaron had picked this place: he would fit right in here. There was just something about that man. Hathaway looked at his reflexion in the glass doors, put his tie straight, closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them again, he walked in. This was it.

* * *

Someone took his coat; someone else led him to the table where Elenora and Aaron were already seated.

"There he is" Aaron said as he rose to his feet. He waited for Hathaway to reach the table before putting his hand out.

"Hello, James."

"Hello, Aaron" Hathaway replied while they shook hands. He then turned towards Elenora who had also got up.

"James."

"Elenora."

All afternoon he'd thought about the best way to greet her but all of those contemplations became useless now that she was actually in front of him. So he greeted her like he'd always done: two kisses, one on each cheek. They still were warm and silky smooth upon touch, as he remembered. She even smelled the same. It was a light, airy scent that resembled spring; it seemed like she had mixed some cherry blossom and flowers in bloom with a fresh breeze and rain showers. It was the height of winter but she carried a ray of sunshine with her. She always had. It was only when they sat down that he noticed she was just as ill at ease as he was.

She didn't know what to say, where to start. On top of that, his greeting had stirred her unwilling memory back to life. Fragments of previous greetings came back to her but they lacked context. They were gone before she could get a hold of them.

"So, how was your day?" Aaron asked cheerfully. It was meant to break the ice or more precisely the tension, building in the staring gaze between Hathaway and Elenora.

It worked. Hathaway gave him a quizzical look.

"My wife just asked me and now I'm asking you."

Although Hathaway failed to understand the logic of that reasoning, he answered the question:

"It was fine, slow."

"Anything new concerning Donna?"

Hathaway was about to say he couldn't discuss an ongoing case when Elenora awoke from her daydream.

"He can't talk to us about that, Aaron. Besides, I don't want to. It's hard enough to deal with as it is."

Both men looked at Elenora with care but only one of them was allowed to actually comfort her.

"I'm sorry, Nora." Aaron put his hand over hers. "I shouldn't have brought it up. I just hoped the case was solved."

She smiled. "It's okay."

Hathaway felt the need to say something, just to make her feel somewhat better. Because it was clearly not okay.

"I'll let you know when we do."

"Thank you" Elenora nodded.

* * *

A waiter came to take their order. Hathaway's thoughts went back to the subject of change. Her appearance hadn't changed: Elenora was as beautiful as ever, no question about it. But when Aaron ordered for both himself and his wife, Hathaway wondered if her personality had changed. Elenora used to order herself: she'd never let him or anyone else order for her when he knew her. Had she lost that independence? How? Was it because of the amnesia? Because she was married? Because she was married to him?

"Sir?"

Hathaway snapped out of his thoughts and ordered. He noticed Aaron's questioning glance but wasn't going to express his concerns just yet.

"I'm curious, James" Aaron started after the waiter had left. "Do you have a girlfriend, wife, kids?"

Hathaway snorted and smiled. It was a silly question. He was pretty sure Aaron knew the answer or could at least make an educated guess. Then what did he want with it?

"None of the above, I'm afraid. I haven't found the right woman yet."

He had. But he needed to let her go, then and now.

"I have, right Nora?" Aaron asked his wife sweetly. She smiled but it didn't reach her eyes.

So that was Aaron's endgame: boosting his ego at the expense of Hathaway's. He should have known; he even got protective when Hathaway just looked at her too long. It was time Elenora said something.

"Where did you meet?" Hathaway asked, turning towards Elenora.

"At the hospital, when I was recovering from the accident."

Hathaway wanted to ask what had happened but Aaron jumped in before he could open his mouth.

"That's not completely true: we met in the same place you did" Aaron said, indicating Elenora and Hathaway. "University."

Elenora watched Hathaway's reaction closely. He blinked. Was that surprise showing on his face? Aaron continued.

"I read Architecture at Cambridge. One day I just bumped into her, literally, in a pub somewhere in the city. I was too stunned to make my excuses properly at that time and too nervous later on. That's why I never actually talked to her, let alone asked her out. My friends tried to help by feeding me with information about her and taking me to where she would be but I just froze every time I saw her. It was like I knew I had to do it right" he met Elenora's eyes, "because I wouldn't get a second chance. Then, just a few months after graduation, I heard she'd been in an accident here in Oxford. I thought she could do with a friendly face and visited her in the hospital. The rest is history." He put his hand over hers again, stroking its back with his thumb.

Elenora glanced at Hathaway: his surprise had grown during Aaron's story of their origin. He seemed to be skeptical about it and that worried her.

Elenora was right: Hathaway was surprised, unpleasantly surprised that was. He had some serious doubts concerning Aaron's story, because it was nothing more than that, _his_ story. Elenora could only account for the time they had spent together after the accident. But that wasn't his only concern. First, he'd never known or seen Aaron before, although he had spent enough time with Elenora outside university grounds. Second, she didn't go out that much and the pub was not a place she liked to be. However, his biggest concern was that he couldn't image a man like Aaron being lost for words, nervous or chicken in front of a woman, any woman, including Elenora. That's why he was seriously considering asking Aaron where he had bumped into her but he realized he couldn't do that to Elenora. Although he was quite sure Aaron was lying to him and possibly to her, she might not know. He would need proof to convince her, he always had.

"That's not your average love story" Hathaway said with a smile. "Funny we haven't met before, then" he added, looking at Aaron.

Aaron smiled back at him. "I think I saw you around. Even thought you were her boyfriend for a while."

Aaron got what he wanted: Elenora turned her gaze to Hathaway, whose ego he'd purposefully flattered with his remark. They shared a look, questioning what could have been.

First course arrived. They ate, filling the silence in between the sounds of dinner with small talk, the mood somewhat lightened by the food.

* * *

"Am I right in thinking you have a major in Theology, James, like Nora?" Aaron asked when the waiter cleared the table.

Hathaway noticed Aaron's repetitive use of the nickname Nora to indicate his wife. He also noticed it began to annoy her: where she'd been pleasantly surprised the first time, she was now slightly scowling whenever he used it. Hathaway thus reached the conclusion he normally didn't do that. Trying to hard?

"Yeah, I do."

"What happened?" Elenora asked sincerely.

Hathaway looked at her. "After graduation I went into a seminary to become a priest. As it turned out, it wasn't what I wanted."

What did you want? But the words on her lips didn't get said. Instead she opted for:

"So you became a policeman?"

She didn't mock him; it wasn't even a proper question. It was a statement like only she could make one, with the sole purpose of getting you to talk. She hadn't changed.

"After much deliberation, yes. I thought about doing research instead of practicing theology but I'd lost my faith along the way. I..."

He was ready to tell her about Will, about the mistake he'd made and its consequences for his friend. Until he remembered the words of her mother.

What she _needs_ to know.

She didn't need to know, did she? For a moment, he considered ignoring those words, but seeing Aaron's smug expression he decided to keep the information to himself. As much as he wanted to tell her, because she would understand, he certainly didn't want to tell him. So he finished his sentence in another way.

"... I'm happy being a policeman."

Hathaway read like a book. Elenora wondered why he was holding something back but one quick glance at Aaron resolved that. There couldn't have been a bigger difference between the two men with whom she was currently having dinner. Aaron was inscrutable for her: she could see he was a bit annoyed right now but the reason for it got stuck in the mist in her head. There was something about him tonight but she couldn't discern exactly what it was. So she redirected her attention to Hathaway.

"If you think about it, you're actually doing research. It's just the object that has changed."

He praised her impeccable sensibility in silence and met her smile with his own. Aaron scowled.

* * *

After second course Elenora excused herself and went to the ladies' room. She felt sick but it wasn't the food that bothered her. Aaron had been talking during most of the course, with only the odd question from Hathaway to stop him. She knew he liked to talk about his successes but he patronized her in the process. He'd told Hathaway she didn't have a job because he was afraid it would damage her emotional health. Due to the amnesia, of course. All of a sudden she had realized that her amnesia was his excuse to patronize her and it scared her. She'd been led to believe it was for the best she didn't work, just as she had been led to believe that she couldn't and shouldn't try to remember her past. But ever since she'd seen Hathaway, she questioned those believes. Had she been deceived?

"Are you alright?" Aaron asked worried when she returned to the table. "You look a little pale."

Hathaway sought her eyes but she kept them trained on the wall behind Aaron.

"I'm fine; the scent in the ladies' room was a bit too heavy for me, that's all." She smiled and sat down.

Aaron seemed to accept this obvious lie because he continued the conversation without hesitation. Or maybe not...

"Nora, James just asked me about the accident. I think you should tell him about it."

"Only if you're up to it" Hathaway added quickly. He'd deliberately asked Aaron about the accident to save Elenora from revisiting that moment but evidently Aaron had other plans.

Elenora met his eyes and he recognized her confusion. Apparently she had also expected Aaron to do the talking concerning the accident. Why would he want to make his wife revisit the one moment of her life she would have liked to forget? As if she'd read the question in his eyes, she stated:

"It's part of the healing process to talk about it."

It was an explanation but it didn't satisfy either of them.

She sighed. "It was mid-October, ten years ago. I'd been to a lecture here in Oxford, for my research. I don't remember what it was about, but then again, I don't remember any of this. This is all hearsay, if you prefer that term. Anyway, it was dark when I left the college. I crossed the road and the car came out of nowhere, speeding towards me. I tried to jump back onto the pavement but I failed, the car hit me and that caused me to fall and hit my head on that same pavement. I was in a coma for two weeks and when I woke up I didn't remember any of it. I didn't even recognize my own parents. That changed soon but everything else didn't come back to me. I was angry: I wanted to get my memory back at all costs. The struggle was destroying me and it was fruitless. I had to let go."

She looked at Aaron, loving. He smiled back at her. Hathaway linked that look with her last sentence and concluded Aaron probably had much to do with her letting go. He didn't know what to make of that yet.

"She doesn't remember university at all so you'll have to fill her in on that" Aaron said, turning his head towards Hathaway.

He nodded. "What do you want to know?" he said, addressing Elenora again.

"Tell me what I was like, please."

"I think you were probably the brightest student they'd ever had. You didn't need to be taught to think or reason: you were eloquent enough to take on the establishment. Got straight A's. But you never dismissed anyone: everyone who made a good argument about anything got your attention. You were independent but not superior. You were quite frankly just a loveable, friendly, calm person with a good head on her shoulders, metaphorically speaking as well as literally. You left an impression wherever you went. Some of our fellow students called you The Beautiful, Brilliant Babe."

She laughed out loud for the first time that evening. It sent shivers down Hathaway's spine.

"No way. That's not me." It was so different from who she was now. Still, it didn't seem completely unlikely.

He smiled at her denial. Even if she had remembered, she would still have denied it because that was who she was. There was more left of her than she seemed to think.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you" Aaron said smiling. "So, you've changed. That is to be expected, people change."

For some reason Aaron's casual remark made her feel weird. She looked at Hathaway who also seemed to have his own opinion of it. She decided to ignore Aaron and redirected her attention once again to Hathaway.

Dessert was served. While they enjoyed it, Elenora kept asking Hathaway questions about their time at university. Although he answered them truthfully, his answers were less extravert than the first one, due to the words of her mother that kept ringing in his head. Aaron tried to take part in the conversation but ended up mostly listening and nodding in agreement, which was not what he had in mind. But it was a necessary evil. When the waiter came to clear their table though, he silently asked for the bill, leaving no room for drinks. He was done.

* * *

When they stepped out of the restaurant, it rained. Aaron put up the umbrella he'd brought with him. He felt confident enough that he'd won Hathaway over, or actually his wife had, to leave her alone with him for a moment. So he handed her the umbrella and said:

"I'll go get the car, Nora. You just wait here."

He turned towards Hathaway. "It's been a pleasure meeting you."

"You too" Hathaway replied as they shook on it. Aaron then ran off to get the car, leaving Hathaway and Elenora standing side by side on the pavement.

"Here, let me" Hathaway offered and took the umbrella from Elenora. He put it over both their heads properly and shivered. There was so little time and so many things to be said. Their silence was charged with them.

"Your mother came to see me today."

He didn't know why he'd said that. Maybe because he couldn't make sense of it himself. She would, if she could get past the superficial change she had suffered. For he was convinced that was not her doing.

She froze, he could feel it. But she didn't turn to look at him.

"What did she have to say?"

"She said to tell you what you _needed_ to know." He put an emphasis on _needed, _just like her mother had, hoping she could make sense of it.

She clenched her jaw; he could see it out of the corner of his eye. He didn't look at her directly, though.

Aware of how little time she had left before Aaron returned with the car, she processed Hathaway's words as quick as she could. Her analysis led to one question only, concerning both men.

"Have you been lying to me tonight?"

The question shocked Hathaway but it was also characteristic of the Elenora he'd known. She was still there.

"No, I haven't" he answered, sounding definite.

"Has he?" Elenora asked with a small inclination of her head in the direction Aaron had gone in.

"I think so, yes."

It sounded just as definite.

Realizing this must hurt her, he turned to apologize, to undo the damage. But Aaron arrived with the car and she had a smile plastered on her face and put her hand out. The ray of sunshine had returned.

"Thank you."

Amazed as he was by this sudden change, he didn't return her thanks. He kissed her goodbye like he'd greeted her and opened the car door. She got in and he put the now folded umbrella next to her.

"Bye" Aaron said, waving his hand at Hathaway. Elenora looked up one last time before she shut the car door and Aaron put it in gear.

Hathaway stared after it until he could no longer see the lights. He raised the collar of his coat and walked home in the pouring rain.

* * *

"I had a good time tonight" Aaron stated when he joined his wife in the matrimonial bed.

"Me too" she said. It was a lie.

Aaron killed the lights and snuggled up to his wife.

"Did you get an answer to all you questions?"

Elenora felt sick. Not only did she just lie to her husband, she also had the strong feeling he'd been lying to her for more than just this one night. Letting him touch her felt like she betrayed herself.

"Yeah, I did. I'm okay with it now."

Another lie, because it was not okay. She was not okay, but she knew she had to wait until tomorrow for relief, something Aaron would get much sooner than that.


End file.
